


I can't help myself

by Yoyi



Category: Stargate Universe
Genre: Cuteness (I hope), Friendship, Kissing, M/M, One-Shot, Romance, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-17 02:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1371124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yoyi/pseuds/Yoyi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He can't help himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I can't help myself

**Author's Note:**

> Blame this on the new Durex's advertisement. It's sooooo cute! If you want to see it, type: "I can't help myself Durex" and then watch it. x3
> 
> "Warnings": Without beta, OoC (to be sure).
> 
> Yoyi's complain: I wish there were more Rush/Young out there... *Sigh* I suppose I'll be one of those who writes about them xD Such a pity I don't do it that well. xD

 

Rush had managed to get a “picture” of Gloria. It took him so long. He rescued his memories from when he was in _Destiny's_ CPU. He knew it wasn't a real picture, but it was close enough. The “paper” in which it was printed was some kind of resin, half transparent. He got the ink from getting flowers and other stuff that could have colour.

 

That part was rather easy comparing to the previous phases of the idea: finding/building a printer connected to the CPU, find this exact memory, etc. He caressed her face, hands trembling a little. Yeah, the colour part was easier after Brody, Eli and him managed to make some bee-drones to pollinate the flowers that would change into their fruits and other vegetables when necessary. He just needed to come by and retrieve the petals, sometimes he didn't ate his piece of fruit just for the sake of pigment.

 

He sighed, long and deep. His eyes were dry now. He smiled at the picture. This was just a prototype, when he got one worth showing, he would tell the rest of the crew. Maybe he could find a way to get those images out of their heads without being necessary to sit on the chair. Or maybe not, but right now he thought that he deserved a little congratulation from himself to himself.

 

Putting the non-picture in his pocket he exited his hidden working place and headed to Brody's Bar. He wanted a drink, and he would take whatever Brody had managed by now. The room was deserted. Startled, he looked at his phone's screen. It was late and/or early enough to be deserted. Shrugging, he entered anyway and poured himself a glass of whatever Brody had in hand. It was awful, but it served it's purpose very well.

 

He sank himself into his most dearest memories. He wasn't aware of humming a tune until he really began to sing it. To his own surprise, he sang it quite well, not as a pro, but good enough to be enjoyed by other ears. When he stopped his mumbling/singing to sip a little more, someone at his back clapped.

 

Rush looked over his shoulder to find colonel Young. Wincing, he nodded towards the man and then began to sing again, the same tune over and over. He was crying again, maybe. That salty taste wasn't supposed to be from the liquor, so it was either sweat, tears or mucus. Young sat beside him and put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him into some sort of comforting semi hug. Rush had stopped singing, sobbing instead, his head resting between Young's neck and shoulder.

 

“What's wrong?”

 

He didn't want to answer that. Not out loud, not to him and not to anyone who wasn't Gloria. He missed Gloria. And the photo only made the ache worse now that he was sure he got her features wrong. But her pretty, blue eyes were still the same, and her hair shone like always, and her smile was bright as ever. Still, she wasn't as she should be. Not in that non-picture, anyway.

 

“Yeah, it get's lonely sometimes. We all miss someone sometimes, someone we can't reach anymore, no matter which way we try.” So he had to have answered aloud instead of thinking it, since Young, Rush was deadly sure, couldn't read minds.

 

“I wish I had a picture from her, a real one,” he mumbled to Young's neck.

 

“Well, you can always draw her portrait, right? Or make _Destiny's_ AI do it?”

 

“No,” he shook his head. It was reassuring the feeling of Young's hand up and down his arm, comforting. He sighed again. Rush preferred to stay this way a little more, but he had to show it to Young now. He took out the non-picture of Gloria and showed it to Young. He expected an avalanche of questions, but none came. Just a little comment.

 

“She was pretty.”

 

Rush nodded. His hand was fisted around the glass. He emptied it in one go, smacking it on the table in front of him, not hard enough as to break it.

 

“She was the prettiest, the loveliest. We argued over trivial things. Sometimes I thought she was the worst woman in the world and wanted to be so far away from her. But we always came back to each other. We both liked classical music, but she would put pop music so loud sometimes, so she could dance through the melodies while screaming the lyrics. For a musician, she was pretty deaf toned when she singed.”

 

Young nodded, smiling. “You loved her.”

 

“Of course I loved her,” Rush sounded hurt. “If I didn't love her I couldn't have managed to overlook her flaws... as she must have done with me. I still don't know what the heck she saw on me, why she stayed with me instead of leaving. She should have left.”

 

“Nicholas.”

 

Rush looked at Young, angry. “I don't want you to call me by my name, colonel.”

 

Young shrugged, pouring himself a glass of the beverage. “You can call me Everett.”

 

Rush snorted. “I'd rather not, _colonel_.”

 

Young drank silently. Rush waited for him to finish it before refilling both glasses with more liquid. They drank in company, as if drinking to some secret bow. Young leaned in and kissed Rush on the cheek. It was a wet, sloppy kiss, more childlike than anything else. Both laughed as the echo made the sound louder in the quiet room.

 

Rush gave the kiss back in the form of a lick. He licked Young's cheek. “Cow's kiss, colonel,” he said at the bemused face the man had.

 

Young, then, gave him a peek on the lips, adding, “chick's kiss.”

 

Rush laughed and drank some more, unaffected by Young's kiss. Young blushed then, feeling awkward. And when he almost couldn't bear the silence anymore and was about to leave, Rush put his hands at both sides of his face and rubbed their noses together.

 

“Gnome's kiss,” he said then, smiling. Then he headbutted Young lightly. “Glasgow kiss. Now, we are even.”

 

“How are we even? Now I owe you a kiss.”

 

“Yes, well. When you decide to give me that one, we will be. For now, I'll go to my quarters and try to sleep.” Rush got up and left.

 

Young rubbed his nose. “Gnome's kiss?”

~

 

 

He had been thinking about it all week. Had Rush really give him permission to kiss him again? No, that wasn't the real question. The real one was: in which form? Should it be like the others, innocent, childlike? Should he kiss Rush for real? Should he kiss him in a mocking way? Like getting on his knees and kissing his hand.

 

The truth was that during all this week some kind of heavy weight had been building inside his stomach. He couldn't really ate all what he should, he sighed too much, he was distracted. Also, sometimes he felt like all the weight in his stomach had disappeared. The feeling was exactly as if all his internal organs were gone. That would happen whenever he was with Rush, almost or completely alone, or in a more private zone.

 

Maybe he should go to TJ and ask her to run some tests on Brody's alcohol, lest be it the cause of his distress.

 

And, oh! There was that catchy melody inside his head. It wouldn't go away, no matter what kind of music he listened to, as soon as it stopped, that melody came back. The lyric a bit blurry, but indistinct male voice. And he wanted to know where the heck that melody came.

 

It was what others would call “unholy hours” when Young decided to go running a little. A little that got the length of almost two hours. Fuck, but he was tired, and the melody was gone and he just needed to take a shower and go back to bed and all would be perfect.

 

Except... except that he heard the male voice humming the melody in one of the showers. He gave up, he would just ask whomever it was to stop singing it in the mean time, just until he could get over it. Because there wasn't that much stuff that could get him nuts as to have a melody struck inside his head and not knowing the lyrics. That made him really restless. If he had to have a melody glued to his subconscious he preferred to know the lyrics.

 

He entered the bathroom. Three shower plates, one occupied. He recognised the voice. It was Rush. The memory hit him. Of course! They had been drinking and Rush had sang that song.

 

“You have a pretty voice,” he said, to make him present so the man wouldn't get startled if he found someone else there. But Rush only looked at him over the door, shrugged and continued singing.

 

Young undressed and got in one shower. He was fast enough as to get out even before Rush. When Rush came out his hair was combed backwards, away from his face, and he had shaved again. Lately, Rush shaved like once or twice a week.

 

“What's the song?”

 

“You want to know?”

 

“Sure. If not, why would I ask?”

 

Rush laughed. They were drying themselves with towels. Rush had two: one for the body, not too big; another for the hair, even smaller. Young had only one. It was big, so big he could have wrapped it around Rush and it would even be more left. They began to dress, Rush still humming.

 

“I would like to know what one is, so I can look for the lyrics.”

 

“And why would you want that?”

 

“Because it's catchy, and now I can't get it out my head,” said Young, frowning.

 

Rush giggled like a little kid. “What will you give me in exchange?”

 

They were fully dressed by now, standing, looking at each other. Rush was smiling. Young shook his head, then laughed at himself. “I don't know what to offer, truly,” he answered looking at the floor, in deep thinking.

 

When he looked up again, he caught Rush shifting a yawn. Young watched as Rush mouth almost opened, then relaxed again, and some sort of shiver run through his body. He approached the man and put his hands on his shoulders.

 

“I know what I can give you in exchange.”

 

“Oh, really?”

 

Young nodded. “But I want to hear the title...”

 

“No. You pay first hand here. I don't trust you that much.”

 

Young shrugged, it wouldn't hurt give it before. In fact, he was expecting Rush to ask for it beforehand. “As you wish,” he said, then, leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. Young closed his eyes, relishing on the warmth and softness of the lips under his. He was used to fuller lips, but Rush's thin lips weren't that bad either, and it felt like Rush was kissing back.

 

“A lover's kiss,” he mumbled over Rush mouth, some seconds after, opening his eyes.

 

Rush tilted his head to the side, smiling so slightly one might get confused. He was blushing, but not looking away. Deliberately slow, Rush put his arms around Young's waists, clasping his hands at his back.

 

“I can't help myself,” he said, and before Young could ask or process the words, Rush was kissing him.

 

It was nice. Rush's lips were nice. They just kissed there, more innocently than what one would think. Because one would think of tongues and bold hands skimming under the clothes. But they just kissed shallowly, with their arms wrapped around each other. When Rush yawned again into the kiss, Young broke it, looking at the scientist.

 

“We should go to our beds and get some sleep.”

 

“Yes, we should. Good night, Everett.”

 

Rush left Young there. Because Young couldn't move. Because Rush called him by his name, and he had told him that...

 

“Yeah... Same to you, Nick,” he said to the empty room before going to his own quarters.

 

~

 

Rush had managed to print directly from the kinos. He had by now a lot of landscapes and weir animals and other stuff printed on the floor. He knelt, removing them again, taking them one by one and putting them away. Then, when he didn't find the one he was looking for, threw all the non-pictures to the floor and stalked away, furious.

 

He found Young appreciating the FTL colors in the Observation Lounge. He wasn't alone. Rush didn't care. He was right at his back in a few seconds. Young turned around to be face to face.

 

“Give it back!” he bit. Young seemed a little lost at his words. “It's mine. Give it back!”

 

“No.” Young looked like he knew what was Rush talking about now. “If you want it back, ask nice for it.”

 

“Okay, I'll just make another one,” he said, turning to leave.

 

“Then, make sure this time it approach the real one more than the first.” Young's words made Rush freeze.

 

What happened next no body saw coming. Rush punched Young. Not in the face, that was the expected target. He punched Young on the stomach. Then, he left. But Rush didn't count on Young following him, nor that the colonel would drag him towards an empty debriefing room or close the door with a fisted hand.

 

“You want the picture back? Then offer me something.”

 

“It's mine!”

 

“It was yours. And you left it. Now it's mine.”

 

“What are you...?” Rush sighed, trying to calm down. “Why are you being so childish?”

 

“Because I want something from you, and I know this is the only way I'll get it.”

 

“Don't be so cryptic now. You have never been friend of riddles!”

 

“Cryp...? Okay, I see you are not getting it at all, eh?”

 

“What the heck do you want?”

 

“A KISS, OKAY!” Young yelled, Rush stopped. They both were panting slightly. “I want a kiss.”

 

Both blushed. “For fuck's sake! We are old enough, we shouldn't...” but Rush didn't finished it. He just approached Young.

 

Young put his arms around Rush waists, while Rush left one on his shoulder and the other at the back of his head, pulling him close. They kissed. It was just an innocent kiss, until Rush opened his mouth. Young mimicked.

 

“I can't help myself, uh?” Young whispered. Rush grinned and Young kissed him again, trapping one if his lips between his. “I'll give it back, but you have to come tonight with me.”

 

“I thought that what you wanted was juts a mrfff-”

 

Young cut Rush by kissing him again and they laughed into the kiss. Rush hand was pleasant, caressing his curls, the other moving to play with his lobe and the side of his neck. Young's hands tightened on Rush's waists, pulling his body closer.

 

“No questions. I'll give it back tonight.” At his words, Rush huffed. “Just come, please.”

 

“Okay, okay. Where is that place I have to go no matter what?”

 

Young smiled. “We are going on a trip to the planet. You are in the group coming down. I am in the group too.”

 

“If you played chess like this too, you could manage to win more times.”

 

~

 

It was a small hill, devoid of any vegetation aside from the grass. There was a blanket there, and two pillows. He saw a music device and small speakers. Young was already there, listening to a very familiar melody. He couldn't help the tears that came to his eyes, or the goosebumps on his skin. He felt moved.

 

“You are easily affected by these things, uh?”

 

“How did you got that song?”

 

Young shrugged. “Apparently most of the crew members have more than thousand songs each one. I thought that maybe one could have it. And, yes, they had it, and lot's of covers too.”

 

“I am so lucky,” Rush said, and Young couldn't tell if it was sarcasm or not.

 

“Come here already!” the colonel said, offering a hand. Rush took it and sat beside him. “Now, lay down and look at the sky.” Rush made a noise, between amused and annoyed, but complied. “Close your eyes.” Young's voice was soft, his breath caressing the skin of his neck.

 

Young took one of Rush hands in his. The lyric was always the same, the tune sometimes was faster, others slower. Sometimes it was a man, others a woman, and then several voices.

 

Rush sighed. He could feel Young's thumb back and fort on his hand.

 

“Why did you do this?”

 

“I don't know.”

 

Rush opened his eyes to stare at the starry sky. After long seconds, he looked at Young. “You must know. I need you to know. I can't understand. You... must explain this to me.”

 

“When you snap your finger or wink your eye, I come a-running to you, and there is nothing I can do,” Young whispered with a half smile. The song changed, but this time, the tune was different. It wasn't the same song.

 

They both were now in a seating position. Young had Rush's hands on his and was looking at him, hopefully.

 

“I won't hesitate, no more, no more,” Young sang with the song. Rush didn't know whether he should blush or laugh or what. Young continued, “it cannot wait, I'm yours.” Young sang the verse, then the chorus again, not taking his eyes from Rush's. “So I won't hesitate, no more, no more, it cannot wait, I'm sure. There's no need to complicate, our time is short, this is our fate, I'm yours.”

 

Rush decided to laugh a bit and then blush furiously. Young blushed too.

 

“This is the weirdest way another person has asked me out in my whole life.”

 

“Then, you can answer in the same way, if you would prefer it.”

 

“You had planned all of this, eh? You even calculated the time each song had so this could be done.”

 

Young shrugged. “I asked some help with the maths.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Yes what?”

 

Rush didn't answer to than. Instead he sat on Young's lap. “Give me back the picture, and maybe I'll tell you.”

 

Young laughed and rolled them, so he was on top of Rush, and Rush over the blanket. “Don't try to negotiate that.”

 

“Why not?”

 

Young kissed him. Rush kissed back. “You are such a lot of work.”

 

“Aye! And I am very proud of that.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> The version I like best (in fact, the only one I know, since I haven't listened to the other yet) of "I'm yours" by Jason Maars is "I'm yours sampler001". It's cutter, better and do fits better in the context of this fic. xD
> 
> Here:  
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7uvHmVdy_y8


End file.
